


Soul Quadrant

by Toastyquinn



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, Black-Red Vacillation, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, I'm confused, M/M, Quadrant Confusion?, Quadrant Vacillation, Red Romance, Sorry if that bothers you, Typing Quirks, as always, headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Toastyquinn/pseuds/Toastyquinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And, when you look over to him -- his body bathed in moonlight as the two of you stand together -- you can tell he feels the same way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Double Quadrangle Confuse-around

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silkstone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silkstone/gifts).



> I wrote this for Silkstone, who is a really awesome person! Seriously, check them out. This is the first time I have ever written a caliginous pairing before, so bear with me, I guess? I hope you enjoy it!

Your name is Sollux Captor and you hate parties.

You hate the loud music that blares from speakers that don't even appear to exist. You hate the noise in general, actually, whether it's from the stupid songs, or all of the alcoholic idiots clambering around the large space.

You were actually going to try to make a move on Karkat tonight -- which he would probably let happen, both because of the alcohol, and because he didn't even want a party for his wriggling day to begin with. However, you can't seem to find him anywhere, which is probably just as well. You guess you could always try to hook up with Feferi, because she would probably go with it, and it would piss off Eridan.

Speaking of your kismesis, you can't spot him on the dance floor, which is really weird. Normally, you can't even drag him away for a quick "rendezvous" once he starts dancing. You have noticed that he's been acting a little stand-offish lately (worse than you, in fact), yet it's almost as if that's how he's always been.

You take one more look around the giant, cramped formal event block, before finally spotting your only quadrant. Eridan is on the other side of the dance hall, his back against the marble wall. Someone is standing in front of him. They look threatening, like they want to hurt him. Of course, you aren't going to let that happen, because hurting Eridan is supposed to be your job.

Even if it weren't for the blaring speakers, drunken chatter, and stomping feet, no one should have noticed him. Eridan tends to keep a low profile, especially at parties, so that if he propositions someone and gets rejected, they probably won't see him again for the rest of the event. He was probably flirting with this guy's matesprit or something. You push through the mobs of hammered trolls to the other side of the block, where your kismesis resides.

You have a much better view of the situation now.

Eridan looks absolutely terrified, his eyes wide and unblinking as he curls into himself. You can see him trembling slightly, the much larger troll towering over him of course. Eridan used to be the tallest of all of you, but that was back when you were all only five sweeps. You're all at your ninth sweep now, and he hasn't grown much since then, being a highblood and all.

He may be short, but he could easily defend himself if need be.

As you get closer, you start to wonder why Eridan isn't moving. He doesn't even look like he's even breathing, actually. His earfins are flushed violet and fanned out in a threat display. You know from personal experience that anyone who encroaches into Eridan's personal space without his permission is likely to get their face shredded off, or gossiped right into next week.

You don't get there in time to stop the first punch from being thrown, but you do get to see the other troll's arm pull back before he swings.

Your eyes widen in shock -- and oddly enough you feel the strings of your bloodpusher being tugged -- but you stay in the crowd for a little while longer, as if they are a cloak of some sort. You make your way around to observe the damage, only to find that the thug's fist is now embedded in the wall. Oh thank gog, he missed. That seems to piss the guy off all the more.

Before he can pull his arm back to try again, you catch it with your psionics and wrench it away. Eridan's jaw drops, shock written all over his face as his eyes snap over to you. The thug growls at you angrily, snort barrels flaring and face flooding with his rich, purple blood colour. Of course, it just had to be another highblood. You're honestly getting a little sick of all these assholes. His eyes look bloodshot, although it's a little hard to tell in the darkness.

Suddenly, another troll comes out from the crowd and puts their arms around the purple-blooded guy's shoulders, escorting him away and leaving the two of you alone.

You roll your eyes, muttering about how lusii need to learn to control their wrigglers, before taking Eridan by the wrist and getting him the hell out of there.

You have no idea where you're going. Your legs seem to be moving completely of their own volition, and you don't really pay much attention to where you're going in this maze of corridors, marble, and ugly paintings. Whoever owns this place really has terrible taste in... well, everything.

Somehow, you end up in an ablution block, which of course is lavishly furnished in a whole host of gaudy, useless ways.

Once again, you roll your eyes at the obviously highblood decor. The countertops are, of course, made of white marble, as well as the flooring, the walls, and the majority of the building. The cabinets are made of a dark wood and are lined with golden trim. Both the ablution trap, and load gaper are made of what looks to be solid brass, and the prong drencher almost looks like it could be made of diamonds.

You sometimes wonder what possesses highbloods to spend such ludicrous amounts of money for no reason.

You refuse to make any comments aloud, though, because it would most likely spur an argument with Eridan, and right now you just want answers. You motion for him to sit on the counter, and he shakily hoists himself up. The marble must be cold, you guess.

You stand in front of him, glaring a little as you huff, "Okay ED, are you goiing two tell me what the fuck just happened in there?"

He has a defensive, almost angry look on his face, and opens his mouth to say something. He promptly looks away and closes it again, his brow furrowed.

For the third time tonight, you roll your eyes, "Let'2 face the fact2, ED: you can't ju2t go around and hiit on whoever you want. There are boundariie2. My gue22 i2 that you deciided two fliirt wiith hiis mate2priit, and the guy got mad. Iit'2 not 2urprii2iing. Ii would get mad two iif ii 2aw 2omeone liike you talkiing two any of my other quadrant2."

You don't actually have any other quadrants, but you at least like to let him think you do.

He hasn't been looking at you this whole time. That's really strange, because normally if you insult him like that, he's quick to make a comeback. But he hasn't even insulted your blood colour yet. Something is definitely wrong here.

"ED...? What'2 the matter? Aren't you gonna defend your honour or 2ome 2hiit? Come on, ii can't have thiis fiight all by m-"

You almost finish your sentence before Eridan smashes his lips into yours. You aren't shocked by his outburst in the slightest. Your kismesis tends to bottle up all of his emotions until it festers inside of him enough to finally explode in some random action. While this kind of thing happens a lot, a part of you vaguely wonders what's gotten him all riled up this time.

You simply shrug and reciprocate, nipping at his lips hard enough to leave little pinpricks of blood, which you make sure to lick up. Eridan in turn makes a soft noise at that, his cheeks dusted with a violet blush. You notice that he is still shaking like a leaf, but you ignore it as you slip your tongue into his open mouth, revelling in the pleased expression he makes. His eyes are closed and his hands are kneading your shoulders, so this can't be too bad.

You always try to make sure that he is enjoying himself as much as you are -- you like Eridan, though you would never admit that. You're his kismesis -- you're supposed to be disgusted by everything about him, but sometimes (unbeknownst to you) you just can't help a little pity slip out.

You decide to move closer as the sloppy makeouts continue. You also have a strange urge to touch him, but not like normal -- you want to be gentle, for some reason. Whenever you and Eridan do stuff like this, normally your intent is to harm him in some way. It only turns into sex because sometimes Eridan is a fucking masochist and so is pretty much every other troll ever, yourself included. 

You nudge his legs apart enough to stand in between them, and pull Eridan to the edge of the counter. He seems to enjoy this, too, although you aren't getting the usual signs. You don't catch on until you feel a tear roll down his cheek.

Your heart lurches as you hear a sniffle, and you break the kiss to look down at him in concern. 

Eridan looks ashamed of himself, his shoulders slumping and his eyes cast to the floor on your left side. You're getting worried now. He's been acting different all day and you have no idea why. You want to know what's wrong with him, but before you get the chance to ask, he throws his arms around your neck and begins to sob into your shirt.

You may be used to his sudden bouts of anger or lust, but you have no idea what to make of this. You feel like this should be his moirail's job, but then you remember that neither of you have that quadrant filled.

"I'm s-sorry, Sol", Eridan weeps.

Hmm, like you've never heard him say that before.

"It'2 okay, ED...", you reassure awkwardly.

You really have no idea what you're doing. You should probably ask Karkat if this counts as quadrant vacillation, even though you're pretty sure it doesn't. Then again, your race is pretty weird. So, instead of asking questions, you just pull him close and run your fingers through his hair, contemplating what might have made him cry so hard. Most times, Eridan can be a little over-dramatic, but you don't think this has anything to do with that.

Eridan says something, but it's so faint you can't hear it.

"What diid you 2ay?", you ask.

"Nevvermind," he sighs, the tears beginning to dry. "It wwas stupid, I should 'a just kept my mouth shut."

"Ugh, ju2t tell me, fii2hdiick!"

"Promise you wwon't be mad?"

"Fiine. What ii2 iit?"

"I didn't try to pick up one a his quadrants. I swwear. I wwouldn't because... I think I'm flushed for you," Eridan states as his eyes shoot to the floor again.

What?

You just sort of stand there for a minute. Did he really just say that? You thought for sure that he still hated you. You watch as Eridan -- still trembling -- practically gnaws at his lips. You place your hands on his shoulders to steady him, and he jumps a little in his skin, his gaze back on you. His sharp teeth are still shredding away at his lower lip, so you stop him from continuing that nasty habit by kissing him.

The kiss is different this time, though, like nothing the two of you have ever shared. It's gentle, sweet, and maybe even a little chaste? No, those aren't even the right words -- your first kisses were like that, albeit involving a lot more teeth and name-calling. This kiss is... special; you don't know how or why, but it just feels new. It feels... red, and you're most certainly okay with that.

Eridan shivers a little, and he tentatively puts his arms around your neck. This is also different from your normal kisses, because if he ever does that, he's planning on either yanking your hair, or forcing you closer. You never really minded when he used to do that, but you know that this kiss is too red for that. You think he knows that, too, because instead of pulling you away or pushing himself into you, his hands card through your hair gently. 

You start to smell a sort of sweet fragrance in the air -- which you have a feeling is the scent of flushed pheromones. You like this, it feels right.

Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, Eridan goes stiff as a board and leans away from your lips. You aren't sure what exactly you did, you can tell he still wants to keep going -- his pupils are dilated, he's short of breath, and his face is flushed a deep violet. He looks overwhelmed, which is a little ridiculous in your opinion, considering he sprung the declaration of pity on you. However, with all of those emotions showing, you can't help but think that he mostly looks upset.

"Sollux, wwe can't do this. If I had any other quadrants, I wwouldn't be cheatin' on 'em. I'm pretty sure that your matesprit'll be mad at us if she finds out about this. I mean, this wwas real great an' all... an' I still wwould like to be wwith you... but I guess I'd rather not havve Fef's trident through my torso, if you don't mind," Eridan shrugs, a small, fake smile plastered on his face.

You notice he laughs at the end of the last sentence, which makes you feel really shitty about how you've probably been making him feel. Someone like Eridan can't just have a caliginous partner -- they need a moirail or a matesprit to balance them out. Otherwise, they start getting all self-destructive and then the really bad stuff happens to them. The worst part is that he doesn't even know.

"Yeah, about that. FF and ii broke up a long tiime ago. We're ju2t friiend2 now. Iif we ever 'hook up', what really happen2 ii2 me e2corting her out of the room, and u2 2ayiing our goodbye2. We don't actually do anythiing! Ii only a2k her to do iit becau2e ii know iit pii22e2 you off! But... ii gue22 ii wiill admiit ii miight have 2ome feeliing2 for you that aren't... entiirely black," you sigh.

Eridan doesn't speak, instead just letting his narrowed eyes bore holes into yours as he sits still for the first time tonight. You take his frail, dainty, lady-hand in yours and move away a little, tugging lightly at his arm in an effort to get him to follow you. He slides off the counter numbly, yet no less gracefully, as if caught in a stupor. He clings to your arm in what you kind of hope is more for emotional support instead of physical. You don't ask, though, because Eridan seems to be trounced enough.

You open the door of the ablution block, only to find that a line of elaborately dressed trolls has formed outside. You don't really give a shit, because those people are all morons if they didn't think to look for more bathrooms in this fucking mansion. 

You somehow find the exit, but not without noticing the fact that Eridan hasn't stopped looking at you like if he doesn't he'll stop breathing. Hell, you don't even think he's taken a breath since you found him. You check the gills on his neck, and though it's very faint, they are, indeed, moving. 

Just think, you used to hate him so effortlessly, and now that you're flushed, you have an odd feeling in your pusher, your palms are clammy, and you're actually worried about his opinion of you. This is so new to you -- you've never felt this way with any of your other Matesprits, and you never want to again, not with anyone else. You know he's the one.

And, when you look over to him -- his body bathed in moonlight as the two of you stand together -- you can tell he feels the same way.


	2. Twice as much

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Promises fanfics*
> 
> *Doesn't post anything for a year*
> 
> *Hands you this trash*
> 
> *Ollies outie*

"Sol come on I'm freezin my gills off! Can't I just come in?"

"But you're 2o wet, ED. Be2iide2, iit'2 only been ten miinute2."

"Wwe're gonna be late for Kar's party! I'm sure your bees wwill be fine for a feww hours!"

"Hold your damn hoofbea2t2 and let me 2ay goodbye. You're a 2eadweller, aren't you 2uppo2ed to liike the water?"

"Wwell maybe I wwanted to look at least half-presentable by the time wwe get there. Seriously can wwe get goin noww?"

"Maybe."

You roll your eyes at your kismesis, trying not to start another argument. He was doing this just to spite you. Whenever you both have somewhere to be, Sollux decides to infuriate you instead of doing something sensible like actually cooperating. Normally, he gets you so riled up you two end up not even going to half of the parties you get invited to.

You almost promise yourself not to fume at him, until he appears in the doorway.

"An wwhere the fuck are your coddamn clothes?!", you spit in a completely called for manner, stomping your foot on the stoop.

He has the audacity to shrug -- fuckin shrug -- and smirk with his disgustin low blood teeth that are no good for anything whatsoever, "Well excu2e me, priince22. Ii wa2n't expectiing two get there before the party 2tart2."

You stand there on fire for a few minutes, before taking a deep breath and trying to collect yourself. This is going to be a lot more frustrating than you thought.

You give him your best 'stop being such a fuckin prick and put on some real clothes' glare and cross your arms expectantly, "Get outta those boxers, Sol. Wwe havve a party to attend an I wwill not havve your landlovvin, dirtscrapin, pissguzzlin maww makin me look bad."

"ED let'2 face iit: ii don't have to make you look bad becau2e you already do that all on your own, " he grins, before papping your cheek and stripping himself of his boxers, now completely naked in front of you.

"By the way, plea2e don't get two exciited. Ii know how much you ju2t love thii2 bulge, but thiink of the wriiggler2 out there who don't need two 2ee you get the hot2 for me," he smirks, shaking his ass on his way back to his block.

You decide to politely ignore his incompetence and you invite yourself in, preening your now rain-slick hair back to perfection and fixing your ascot. Contrary to popular belief, bowties are not cool, ascots are. As far as you're concerned, they're the new bowtie, and you plan to wear the shit out of this trend.

When your kismesis comes back, you have to do a double-take to make sure that, yes, he really is wearing that. How unfortunate.

Sollux has taken it upon himself to actually learn how to tie a tie. For once, he isn't wearing one of his lazy clip-ons or a tacky shirt with a tie design on the front. He's wearing an honest to god tie, and that's about the only thing acceptable about his state of dress.

Along with his tie, he's managed to wear a half-blue, half-red dress shirt, with all of the buttons in the wrong holes. Not to mention said attrocity is tucked into underwear. Not pants; underwear. But not just any underwear. They're yours: the lacy boyshorts you lost on your last sleepover. And he's tucked his stupid, ugly shirt into them.

This is the last straw.

You don't even speak and before blazing over to him and shredding his disgusting abomination that he refers to as an article of clothing to threads. He lets you, grinning like a fuckin loser and ripping up your glorious cape while you tear at his shirt, biting down on the first piece of skin bared to you when his shirt slides off his shoulders.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

He rolls off of you, panting heavily with you as you lay next to each other on the floor in ecstasy. Heaps of your slaughtered attire litter the floor. The room is a massacre, much like your bodies at the moment.

You both have some pretty well-aimed bites that were quite a lot of fun in the heat of things but now are mostly just stinging and messy. The bees seem to be pretty okay with having just watched Sollux give you rug burn that will no doubt last for the rest of the week.

You look over at your kismesis and grin, deciding to lay your head on his bare chest to feel how his heart races for you, because of you.

"You knoww Sol, this is actually a pretty good look you're sportin."

"Ii told you. Better than KK's party?"

"Twwice as much."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry, but I've basically been in a hole for a year trying to get caught up with life and stuff. So yeah. I can't promise I'll start doing a whole bunch more posting soon, but I can say I haven't forgotten about the prompts I needed to do and that I've been doing the odd bit of writing when I could. I didn't really edit this chapter but if you've read any of my work, chances are you probably knew that already.
> 
> Until next time,
> 
> 38) Toasty

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading, kudos, and comments! They always mean so much to me! Also, if you have any feedback, I would greatly appreciate it!


End file.
